Molly Hooper's Horrible Week
by What if if if
Summary: When everything is going wrong, how much worse can it get?


_**Thanks to my beta readers: my sister and her good friend. Thank you so much for stumbling through my first attempt in years to write! **_

**(Molly POV)**

_Monday_

Today is going to be horrible. I can just feel it in my bones. Or maybe that's the rain that soaked through my clothes because I forgot a jacket after my alarm never went off and I woke up late to a cat clawing my face. "Today is going to be horrible, I just know it," I mutter to myself as I claw through my locker. I'm sure I put a change of clothes in here after I-used the change of clothes I had in here. "Darn it!"

"Bad morning?" enquires a voice from behind me. I freeze. There's only one person who will come back into the locker rooms looking for me and his name starts with an S and rhymes with block. He is definitely not the person that I want to see right now.

"What did you need Sherlock?" I ask, pasting on a smile as I turn around. "And can it wait just 5 minutes? I'll see you in the lab," I urge, trying to get him out of there.

"I need the Borrelia burgdorferi cultures right now. I have an important investigation I must look into." He looks at me expectantly. When I stare back at him, willing him to give me five minutes in the bathroom, he adds, "I would like them as soon as possible". I sigh and give up. Brushing past him gives me the satisfaction of watching him jump back to avoid getting wet. Entering the lab John looks up from his coffee and jumps straight into talking

"What the heck were you thinking going back there? She could have been getting dressed or taking a shower" but not to me. I sigh and head over to the bacteria cultures. I stopped questioning Sherlock's choices a long time ago. Walking back towards them John ends with " And that's why you have to start listening!"

"Here you are" I state holding the cultures out to Sherlock. He blinks at me in surprise, almost as if surprised that I'm standing there. He takes the cultures from me, then turns and strides out of the lab. John throws a smile my way before jogging after, and the door clangs shut behind them. Not even ten in the morning and I feel like I need a drink. I throw myself in my chair, being reminded by the squish of my clothes that I am still sopping wet. "Shoot".

_Tuesday_

I darted in the door quickly, holding my bag over my head. What is with my alarm this week? Second day in a row I have been late to work and forgot a jacket. Today my cat scratched my down my arm because I didn't feed him quickly enough. Great start. Dropping my bag behind my desk, I look down at myself. "Why does this always happen to me?" I moan, taking in my soaking wet clothes and catching sight of my hair in my computer monitor. The door to the lab opens so I swing around, just as my supervisor sticks his head round the corner.

"There's a new body on your table. The detectives want answers ASAP." The head disappears then reappears again. "By the way Molly, that's a great look on you!" His laughter and footsteps recede down the corrider, and I fight back tears. Heading into the locker room to prep I'm glad I have a body. Nothing can go wrong with that.

_3 hours later_

I'm cursed. There must be no other option. I got into the mortuary to see they had brought in a new intern and he was working on a different body. That was all I saw before I slipped on something and fell. Turns out he's a horrible intern. He had gotten blood all over the floor. They had to hose me down after I finished, so once again I'm soaking wet! I stormed into the lab with samples to test only to find two detectives there.

"We need the results of Oh my god Molly what the hell happened to you?" asked Greg Lestrade. "Did you fall in a puddle when you were getting lunch or something?" I just glared at him frostily. Sally cut in

"We really do need the results of the Ballan case. Do you have them?" she questioned, while poking her partner. "We're on a tight schedule".

"I just did the autopsy and have not analyzed any samples yet" I replied. "Come back tomorrow for the full report". Glancing at each other Greg shrugged and they both turned to leave. Sally stepped on a wet patch of floor near the door and went sailing across the floor. Wind milling her arms as her legs went out from under her and she fell. Greg and I hurried to make sure she was all right. Greg got to her first and knelt by her side. Glaring up at me he snapped,

"Thanks for mopping up the floors!" before helping his partner up and marching out the door. I stepped back in shock, and stood there telling myself not to cry, not to cry, not to cry. Hoping Sally was alright I turned back to my work as mysterious condensation wet my cheeks.

_Wednesday_

I slipped in the door of the lab, shaking the chill of the rain off slightly. I slipped my coat off my shoulders and hung it over my chair, shaking off the wet particles that clung to it. My supervisor jogs into the lab just as I'm about to head over to the many samples I collected yesterday for the detectives.

"Late again?" he taunts. " At least you don't look like a drowned rat this time" he smirks as he leans against a table. I sigh and don't turn. He's always been like this and he's never like me. I can almost feeling him frowning at my back as I don't respond. "Don't be late anymore" he snaps out. "And get your work done on time. Those policemen are coming back for the results of the Ballan case and shouldn't have had to wait in the first place". Irritated I turn and lash out

"How could I have given them anything? There wasn't any time!" I fire at him, angry. As he smirks I realize I've played into his little game. He turns sharply and heads for the door calling over his shoulder

"Just get in done!". He pushes the doors all the way so they slam shut with a tremendous clang as he leaves. Jerk. Fuming I turn back to the blood samples I was working on, making notes in the margins of the report. I hear footsteps behind me again and I sigh, but gather up all the papers surrounding the Ballan report. As the footsteps stop behind me, I pivot leaning up against the lab table. Greg Lestrade is glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest. Sally is glaring at Greg but smiles at me.

"How are you?" spills out of my mouth. "That looked like a nasty fall yesterday, and you could have gotten really hurt, or a concussion, and I can't believe my floors were that wet" she cuts me off before I can go much further.

"I'm fine. It was just a small fall, nothing to worry about. Greg is still upset about it but don't let him bother you" she replies. As I glance at Greg he narrows his eyes so I quickly snap my attention back to her. "Since he's being a prat, I'm just completely ignoring him. But back to our jobs, do you have the report?" she's continued.

"The report? Oh, yes the report" I reply, turning and glancing around for the stack of papers. Grabbing them I hand them to her. "Here you go"

"Thanks! See you later" she says, then glides out of the lab with Greg stomping behind her. The doors open and settle quietly and then the lab is still again.

_Thursday_

This has been a horrible week. It's been raining nonstop and I just can't seem to make my alarm work right. I ran into work today and dropped coins on my desk before dropping my coat on my chair. The taxi driver had driven extremely slowly so while I was dryer than I would have been walking, I was also later. My arms are covered in cat scratches because my cat seems to hate me, again only this week. I take a seat at my desk and grab my first aid kit to tend to my arms.

"Molly I need the Clostridium tetani cultures" Sherlock states from right in front of me. How on earth did he get right in front of me without me knowing? I can always hear everybody coming and going. And today is not the day to demand things from me. Ask nicely! Raising my head I glare at him and grit out

"What makes you think we have them or that I WILL GET THEM FOR YOU?" I was mad. Life hated me in that moment and I needed someone to take it out on. Sherlock just happened to be the first and the rudest person in front of me.

"What happened to your arms?" gasped John. "It looks like you dove into a briar bush!" I was not going to yell at John. He was nice, he was my friend and he had not made any rude demands of me. I smiled at him sweetly and said

"My cat has it out for me" while still applying antibacterial ointment and bandages. I was almost finished when Sherlock decided to add to the conversation again.

"This is all well and good but when am I going to get my Clostridium tetani culutres?" he queried irritably. "And Molly I'm going to use one of your microscopes one of the" at this point I cut him off.

"No. You are not going to use my microscope and give me a second will you? You're like a toddler" I cried, glaring up into his face.

"I need the cultures" he said stiffly. "I have many important experiments waiting for me at home which is also why I need one of your microscopes to" he was cut off again but this time by John.

"You want to bring another microscope home to do another experiment? Which one are you going to get rid of?" he asked incredulity, staring at Sherlock. "Your experiment already are taking up the kitchen table and you have one on the coffee table. I use that table!" by this time he was gearing into a rant or a shouting match. I stood up and slipped out to get coffee. When I got back Sherlock was shouting

"YOU NEVER LIKED THAT SWEATER YOU SAID SO YOURSELF!" while John was standing on the other end of the room glaring daggers at Sherlock. This was when he picked up a petri dish and flung it at Sherlock. My mouth dropped open and I quickly ran into the fray. Seeing me John stopped in the motion of throwing another dish and smiled sheepishly.

"Umm, Hi Molly. We were just ..redecorating!" I closed my eyes and willed my self to calm down. With my eyes still closed I pointed in the vague direction of the door. I heard footsteps and the door squeak and then clang shut. I opened my eyes again and glanced around my lab before sighing and dropping into my desk chair. Today wasn't going to get any better.

_Friday_

I walked in on my birthday, dropping my bag behind my desk and slinging my coat over my chair. Today might bring anything but I just hoped it brought peace and quiet. As much as I liked my job and my so-called friends, I was tried of the glaring, the frosty silences and shouting matches. I could handle dead bodies but anything remotely alive was tiring. Lost in thought I never noticed the delicate crystal vase until I went to turn on my computer. It held a handful of yellow roses and five daises arranged with baby's breath. A card was taped to the side of the vase. Hesitantly I pulled it off and glanced at it. In perfect cursive it read Happy Birthday Molly with a hand drawn smiley face. I smiled, reread the message, then glanced at the flowers and let out a laugh. Maybe this week wasn't so bad after all.

In a police station down the street a man stuck his head out of a cubicle and gave a thumbs up. Two police officers nodded then shared a glance. The woman turned away from the water cooler and headed back to her desk. The man closed his office door and turned to his computer with a smile. In the cubicle a dark haired man turns off the webcam and grabs his long coat. He and his friend leave the station just as the rain clears and the sun shines through the clouds to the streets below.


End file.
